Fara rima

Din cand in cand ma joc cu niste cuvinte le culeg, le arunc, le pasez la perete cu cat le izbesc mai tare se intorc, ascutite. De-am scrie toti in versuri s-ar darama structura lumii reale sau prozaicul tern si poate-am trai zilnic intr-o poezie cu rima libera.

The Train

  1.The Controller The compartment was assigned was empty, I was the first traveler. I took the book and water bottle out of my backpack, and sat down on the little table at the very moment the train started. I was not just the first, I was the only traveler in the compartment. "How fortunate … Continue reading The Train